


Not Afraid of Storms

by HannahPelham



Series: What is history? History is women following behind with a bucket [2]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: F/M, Fluffy, Modern AU, mild mary bashing but its ediths pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 11:05:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19294456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannahPelham/pseuds/HannahPelham
Summary: Edith misses Bertie quite a lot after she leaves Brancaster. A continuation. Modern AU.





	Not Afraid of Storms

_ “I am not afraid of storms, for I am learning how to sail my ship” - Little Women by Louisa May Alcott _

 

Edith laughed as Bertie tried and failed to reach one of the highest shelves in Brancaster’s library. Edith and Bertie had only been together a few weeks, but they’d fallen into a routine like it was the most natural thing in the world. Bertie’s clothes were slowly migrating over into Edith’s room, and every morning they would be woken by the sun streaming in from the windows Edith loved so dearly. They’d eat their breakfast at the tiny table in the kitchen, before slowly making their way down to the library to do some work. Each day they’d explore a new corridor of the house - Bertie hardly knew the place so he figured he may as well explore with Edith. He’d go to his study to do estate work until lunchtime, whilst Edith worked on her book in the library. It was summer, and the sun was normally shining, so they’d have a little picnic on the lawn for lunch, before making their way back into the library to research Brancaster and sing along to Edith’s music or the radio or the huge collection of records the previous Marquess, Peter, had left before he’d died. They’d make dinner and sit on the sofa in front of the TV eating it, before going for a walk around the grounds, or down another previously unexplored corridor, before falling asleep in each other’s arms as the moon shone in through the windows of their bedroom. They were the height of domesticity and it suited Bertie perfectly. 

 

It was all shattered, though, once Edith neared the end of her research. 

 

“I have to go back, Bertie. My publisher is in York and I need to be close to them to meet with them. You understand, don’t you?” Edith said one cloudy morning, her head resting on Bertie’s chest. It was almost like the weather knew the mood in the castle was gloomy that morning. 

 

“I do, but, well..it’s just, I’ll miss you, that’s all” Bertie replied, sitting up slightly so he could lean over to kiss Edith gently. 

 

“I’ll email, I’ll phone” Edith said, punctuating every spoken action with a kiss, “I’ll even write”. Bertie smiled at her, and wondered how he ever got so lucky. The past few weeks with Edith had been bliss, and he was heartbroken that they were coming to an end. 

 

The day Edith left was a hard one for both of them. She’d packed up her things the night before. All her clothes were back in her suitcase, her books and papers relating to her book safely stored away. There was nothing around to show that Edith had ever been there. It was raining that day, just to add insult to injury. They’d both rushed out carrying suitcases, throwing them haphazardly into the boot of the taxi that had come to pick Edith up and take her to the train station. Then, Bertie realised he was going to have to say goodbye to Edith. He’d been dreading this moment. 

 

“Call me when you’re home, so I know you’re safe” He said quietly, voice beginning to faltar. He could hardly look at her. 

 

“I will, Bertie. I love you”

 

“I love you too, Edith” Bertie replied, a stray tear escaping from his eyes, “Please come back to Brancaster soon”

 

“Oh there’s no risk of my not returning, Bertie. Goodbye for now, love” Edith said, leaning in to give Bertie one last kiss. 

 

“Bye, darling” He whispered, as she got into the cab. As the car sped down the driveway and out of the gates, what remained of Bertie’s resolve broke, and the tears began to fall freely. He found himself making his way to the library, the radio tuned to Edith’s favourite channel. Suddenly, singing along to the songs playing had lost all its charm. Brancaster seemed to have lost its charm now Edith was no longer there. 

 

Edith arrived home late that evening. She and her sister Mary were staying with their parents in Downton village, their childhood home. After the breakup of Edith’s last relationship, with her old publisher Mike Gregson, she’d moved away from London. She’d needed a break from the hustle and bustle and needed the quiet of Yorkshire once again. The quiet was soon ruined by her sister moving back, after the death of her husband Matthew in a car crash. The sisters had never been the best of friends, especially now the mediation of youngest sister Sybil was no longer there. Edith was greeted by her parents as she walked through the door, her suitcases piled up by a dresser in the hall. Edith’s parents, Robert and Cora, had always supported their middle daughter’s career in academia. Mary had her own pursuits as a model, so Edith’s career as a historian made sure at least one daughter would have something they could be proud of. Edith had been the awkward ugly duckling of a middle sister. She couldn’t even get her dolls to do what she wanted, let alone anybody else. Finding somebody like Bertie, after her previous failed romantic liaisons which went from horrific one night stands to a jilting at the altar, well, Bertie seemed like a miracle to Edith. 

 

Edith collapsed down on the sofa, enjoying the peace and quiet of home, as her mother thrust a hot chocolate into her hands. Before even a syllable could come from Edith, Robert, or Cora, the front door burst open again. Mary waltzed in, a little worse for wear, dragging an equally sozzled Harry Talbot, her new boyfriend, behind her. Harry was a racing driver, who’d had a few successful seasons in the junior formulas before making his way over to endurance racing. He liked to party. He was used to the glamour of Mayfair and Monaco. Downton wasn’t really his style, but he and Mary seemed to have drunk the local pub, The Abbey Arms, dry. 

 

“You should have seen Carson’s face” Mr and Mrs Carson being the landlord and landlady “You should have seen their faces when I ordered my seventh gin and tonic!” Mary slurred as she dragged Harry up the stairs. She turned around briefly to catch a glimpse of Edith sat in the sitting room. 

 

“Oh look, she’s back!” She called as she tripped over the top step, practically falling into her bedroom. Edith rolled her eyes as she heard the door slam, followed by stumbling and giggling from her older sister’s room. 

 

“How was it, dear?” Cora asked as the noise from upstairs seemed to cease. 

 

“It was wonderful, I got a lot done, and…” Edith started, faltering towards the end. Did she want to tell her parents about her new boyfriend straight away?

 

“And what?” Robert asked, giving his daughter a knowing look. Edith sighed. 

 

“Bertie, who I stayed with” She said, looking down into her mug, “Well, um. We rather fell in love with each other, I suppose”. Edith looked up just in time to see her parents’ jaws drop. 

 

“Oh Edith, darling, that’s wonderful. Tell us all about him” Cora replied quickly, wanting to know everything about her unlucky daughter’s new beau. Edith told them nearly everything, leaving out the part about Bertie being a Marquess. They seemed to approve. Edith went to bed feeling somewhat renewed. She felt like her parents saw her in a new light, for once. She wanted them to meet Bertie. If they met him, she was sure they would be just as enchanted as her. 

 

The next morning, a bright eyed Edith found her peaceful breakfast being interrupted by her horrifically hungover older sister. Mary slumped in a seat at the kitchen table, Harry not far behind her. Edith carried on eating her cereal and texting Bertie. 

 

“Can you turn the keyboard sounds off on your phone, for god’s sake Edith, it’s so loud” Harry murmured as he dropped an alka-seltzer into a glass of water. 

 

“Who are you texting anyway?” Mary asked, wondering how on earth Edith had somebody to talk to this early in the morning. 

 

“My boyfriend” Edith replied quickly as she ate the last of her cereal. She put her bowl and spoon in the dishwasher, and left the room without another word. She never turned around to see Mary and Harry make very confused faces at each other. 

 

Edith worked in peace in the study, overlooking the road, for most of the morning. She and Bertie were chatting back and forth, hoping that constant conversation would help them through the unknown length of time they were to spend apart. It wasn’t until mid-morning when somebody interrupted her peace. 

 

“Come in” She called as somebody knocked on the door. She turned around just in time to see her brother-in-law, Tom, walk into the room. Since Sybil’s death, her widow Tom had become even closer with Edith and Mary. They were his remaining links with her, and he didn’t want to lose them, because that would mean losing Sybil permanently, forever. 

 

“Hello Tom, how have you been?” Edith asked as he pulled up a chair on the other side of the desk. 

 

“Not as well as you, apparently” Tom replied, handing her a pastry from the bakery in the village “Mary tells me you have a boyfriend”

 

“I do” Edith replied, taking the pastry from him and placing it on the saucer of her teacup, “Bertie Pelham, who I stayed with in Northumberland”

 

Tom smiled. After being jilted at the altar by Tony Strallan, and a disastrous relationship with the aforementioned former publisher Gregson, Tom wanted nothing more than to see Edith happy. 

 

“Congratulations, I hope he’s treating you well”

 

“He is” Edith replied “Mary doesn’t know anything about him, so please don’t tell her. She doesn’t even know his name. I want to enjoy it a little bit longer before she inevitably ruins it”

 

“I think you’re being a bit harsh on her, you know, but you have my word” Tom said as he stood up and put the chair back where it belonged. He smiled at Edith and left the room, almost finding it strange to see Edith so happy. 

 

The first few weeks after her return to Downton were a frenzy of publishers meetings in York and hours upon hours spent editing in the study. Her parents would bring her trays of food and endless cups of tea as she worked hard to reach her deadline. When said deadline approached, and the final manuscript was sent off to the publishers, it hit Edith. She missed Bertie. A lot. It was a physical ache inside her, a pain in her chest telling her he wasn’t there with her. They’d been talking on the phone a lot, and texting each other constantly until the pressure was really on, but it wasn’t quite the same.

 

After the manuscript was handed in, it didn’t take a genius to see that Edith’s mood had gone south. Now she was thinking about her next book or project, she had more time to miss Bertie. She’d never missed somebody this much before. She supposed this must be what it feels like when you miss the person you want to spend the rest of your life with. She’d never felt like this with Tony, who she’d only agreed to marry because she was young and thought she’d never find true love, or Mike, who had been an exciting prospect at first, but had turned sour when they both realised mixing personal and professional wasn’t always the best plan. 

 

She tried to busy herself with research in the local library, extensive sessions searching journal articles and books, shut in the study, ignoring everything from the outside world except her work and Bertie. When she stopped working, which was only to eat, shower, or sleep, Bertie was all she could think about. She dreamt about him at night, about them at Brancaster, living happily ever after. One night, she even dreamt of Bertie carrying her over the threshold as his wife. She’d woken up crying that morning. Her brain and heart could hardly cope with how much she missed him. She guessed she felt like Jane Eyre did when Mr Rochester told her she was to move to Ireland. Everybody could see it. Tom could see it. Robert could see it. Cora could see it. Even Mary and Harry could see it. Edith was miserable, and it was bringing the whole house down. 

 

Tom decided he should be the one to intervene. He found Edith in the study early one morning, and he had a plan. He walked in, and found her with her head on the desk, sobbing. He rushed over and put an arm around her. 

 

“Edith, love, what’s wrong?” He asked, his Irish lilt peeking through. Edith looked up and smiled weakly. 

 

“Bertie sent me a photo of the sunrise at Brancaster. My first morning there we watched the sunrise from the patio” She replied weakly, showing Tom the photo. She hadn’t mentioned to any of them that Brancaster was a castle, and Tom, though surprised, didn’t say a word. He clearly needed to get his plan into action, and fast. 

 

“Edith, go to Brancaster. Go and see Bertie” He said, matter of factly. Edith sat up. 

 

“I’d love to, but-” She started. 

 

“But what, Edith? You said you love him, and he loves you. He’ll be delighted to see you” Tom interrupted. He looked at Edith mock-sternly, trying to make her laugh. After a few seconds she broke, hugging him quickly. She ran out of the room and up the stairs to pack a suitcase. Tom smiled to himself as he made his way to the kitchen, where the rest of the family was wondering what the hell was going on. 

 

“She’s going to see Bertie” he explained. 

 

“It’s about time” Mary replied, “I couldn’t deal with much more of her being miserable”

 

Edith drove as fast as she could to Brancaster. The gates were open, much to her relief, and as the castle came into view, she felt like she was home. She felt like she belonged there. She parked her car next to Bertie’s. She let out a sigh of relief that he was there. She walked up to the ancient wooden front door, and rang the doorbell. She heard a few doors crashing about inside, before the door opened. 

 

Bertie couldn’t believe it. What was Edith doing on his doorstep? He was delighted, of course, but his brain could hardly compute the scene in front of him. 

 

“I, well, I missed you so I thought I’d come and see you” Edith half said, half asked. Bertie didn’t say a word, he simply pulled Edith close and crashed their lips together. All their longing was poured into that kiss. 

 

“God I missed you” Bertie muttered in between kisses. Edith smiled as she pulled back. 

 

“Put the kettle on whilst I get my suitcase?” 

 

“Your wish is my command, darling” Bertie replied as he practically ran up the stairs. Edith followed behind him, walking through the halls like she’d lived there her whole life. It felt right for her to be there. She looked around as she walked into the kitchen, where Bertie was adding milk to the tea. She sighed contentedly. 

 

“What?” Bertie asked, as he handed her what had become her mug. 

 

“Nothing. Just feels like home, that’s all” Edith replied, sitting on the sofa with her feet tucked under her, just like that first day all those months ago. 

 

“It...it could be your home” Bertie said tentatively, “if you wanted it to be”. Edith’s face broke into the widest smile she could muster. Bertie took that as a yes, and leant down to kiss her, being careful not to spill the tea. 

 

The next morning, Edith woke to the sun pouring in through the windows she loved. Bertie was by her side (snoring, but still) and she’d never been happier. 

 

Reader, she married him. 

 


End file.
